


The Enslaved

by Masky_Writer



Category: Original Work
Genre: Demons, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Minor Character Death, Necrophilia, OC, Original Character(s), Sisters, Slavery, as a warning, idk how to tag, its heavily implied but might as well put it out there, me casually posting angsty shit about my OCs knowing no one gives a shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 19:08:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20587565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masky_Writer/pseuds/Masky_Writer
Summary: Executions were common where the sisters lived. In their slavery.They weren't called them, but that's what they were.People got sick of their slaves. Of their toys. In hopes to have one last moment of fun, they decide to kill them in front of an audience in "creative" ways.Creativity only goes so far before the well runs dry, but other Demons were forced to watch anyways, no matter how old gutting someone got, or how tiring it got to see another head roll off the guillotine.A reminder of their place in this life.





	The Enslaved

**Author's Note:**

> I love hurting my kids it's just a great time

Executions were common where the sisters lived. In their slavery.

They weren't called them, but that's what they were.

People got sick of their slaves. Of their toys. In hopes to have one last moment of fun, they decide to kill them in front of an audience in "creative" ways.

Creativity only goes so far before the well runs dry, but other Demons were forced to watch anyways, no matter how old gutting someone got, or how tiring it got to see another head roll off the guillotine. 

A reminder of their place in this life.

The sisters were no different, however they lived better decently. Auctioning wasn't hard work, but it was tiring work for the two who never died.  
"Too strong." Someone once said. "Send them to the auctioneer. Break their spirits." Is what they heard when their cage doors were ripped open and they were thrown to the wolves.

They didn't have spirits to break, so their plan was faulty from the start.

However, not many people knew that, and seeing a two for one deal on such unique body types was too irresistible for humans that were filled with so much sin it leaked from their bodies. So they lived in what would be considered the lap of luxury, with meals, and pleasure, and soft bedding they were able to keep with every trip to new homes.

If they considered "meals" as dick, "pleasure" as pain, and "bedding" as towels.

Sometimes they got lucky, like this time, where they'd get taken to a home that was filled with guilt ridden humans. Ones who saw the sisters and took pity upon them, bought them out of "the kindness of their hearts", but always brought them back when the deal was over, always with the same excuse running through their heads.

"We're too weak to do anything."

That night, as usual, an Execution was played for the world to see. Molla sat curled up in soft, child like pajamas. She had to admit, having pants was new. Normally she'd be shoved in tight panties that hugged her too much and cut into her skin, but the elastic waistband and soft fleace was too much to pass up.

She'll be stealing these when leaving. Turn them into quilting fabric. Make the blanket longer.

Kelsey was much the same, fleace pajamas that fit her odd frame, of lanky legs and long claws, of large breasts and slender waist. "The sexy one" she was, "the child one" her sister was.

One day they would be called "the deadly ones".

Three Demons on the TV were thrown into a pool of oil it seemed, splashing over their frames and dousing them each in the flammable fluid.  
They knew this one. It was a favorite culling technique.  
A new twist was the reason why there were three. Whoever made it to the other side first and climbed out of the pool won their life.

The race was on, but Molla couldn't be more bored of it already. This always ended the same, no matter what. Someone died. Someone always died.  
She could feel her teeth grinding together, her tail slamming against the back of the couch and ears pressing against her head, over the anger of not being able to do anything at the moment.

She was never the patient type, but for this to work, they had to wait. To be patient. To judge when the time was right.  
And it wasn't. Not yet, anyways. Just more waiting and soon they could strike properly. And no one would be spared.

Kelsey scoffed, dragging Molla out of her thoughts, as she watched two of the three Demons burn in the pool with one remaining, only to have a match thrown on her as well.

"Foolish. Oil floats. They should've dove underneath." She hated how she talked so calmly about the murder of their people, but she couldn't judge.

Molla spoke the same way as she watched the bodies on TV be beaten, chopped into pieces, eaten, some took certain parts to be used for later use. Privately.

Molla just curled up tighter, glaring daggers into the LCD screen in front of her with anger fueling her body.

"What a stupid way to die."


End file.
